They say funerals are the best places to hear the nicest things about people. Emma’s own wasn’t any different. She was loved by many, as I came to understand. Yet, none of these people were there the night she overdosed on her sleeping pills.
As a journalist, you get to pick on interesting stories. This one was particularly close to my heart. Emma was one of those ladies who had it all- she was youthful and vibrant, had an amazing boyfriend and a great job in advertising.
Three weeks before the incident, some friends said they had noticed something they described as an ‘unhappiness aura’. Her coworkers also said she seemed to be distant and more focused on her job.
According to a particular friend, it felt like a deep unhappiness that had lingered for a long time but had been masked carefully too for a good while. Her mom also felt the same way after a brief visit months ago.
On her coffin, letters were splayed around. Letters that I later discovered were expressing how good she was, how kind she was, how beautiful her smile was, how bubbly her spirit was. There were lots and lots of letters along this line, all honoring her last wish in a suicide note that read:
“If you’re reading this, I finally had the courage to do it. To put an end to my miserable existence and set my spirit free. I know you can’t see me. But all I ask is that you do what you should have done while I was alive— write me a letter. I know this doesn’t make any sense. But nothing in this world makes any sense. Xx”
Some people never get the attention they crave until they’re dead. Some don’t hear the good things people have to say until they are caged in a coffin. Let your words be full of grace and seasoned in salt. Be kind to everyone you meet, you don’t know when you may be having your last conversation with the people around you. Don’t wait for another letter before you tell people you love them.